The little dragon stared up at the tall statues. Truth be told, a part of him couldn't help but pity the creatures imprisoned within them.

That is, until the memories came flooding back.

Chrysalis, Tirek, and Cozy, it seemed, had only ever tried to hurt him. Time and time again, he and his friends had found themselves on the edge of the trio's knives, just waiting to be sliced to bits.

Time and time again, the three villains could've... They could've killed his friends. They could've killed him.

Spike tried in vain to disregard his bubbling resentment, but, in the end, the little dragon could only sigh in defeat.

"I... I want to forgive you all," he murmured. "I really do."

And yet, he couldn't.

Because all he'd ever gotten from them was pain. For better or worse, that was all he could ever bring himself to know them for.

And he hated himself for thinking such thoughts.

Author's Note

The rough draft to an alternate submission for the aforementioned "Atmosphere" prompt. Wound up going unused, due in part to its lengthy exposition and potentially touchy subject matter. It makes its debut here.

DISCLAIMER: I am not insinuating that Spike is right or wrong for his opinions in this story. On the off chance that people actually read this, please do not murder each other in the comments.